


Stories Left Untold: Pinwheel

by engineercarat



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 18:23:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19090582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engineercarat/pseuds/engineercarat
Summary: "Even if you get lostAnd it takes you a whileCome round and round back to meEven if it’s far ahead in the future"-Pinwheel, SEVENTEEN





	Stories Left Untold: Pinwheel

Mingyu’s persperctive

 

It’s not easy living with 12 rowdy boys, especially when you’re an advocate of order and cleanliness. I looked around and sighed—in exasperation and fondness. I always thought we’re done with this when we were divided into two dorms yet here we are again, told to stay under one roof for another reality show. It would be so chaotic, world-destructing-level fun.

“The staff say we have free rein to everything in the house,” Seungcheol announced as we set down our bags. “They said the owner allowed access to the attic if we want to use it.”

“Seungcheol and Soonyoung, come here first.” Jihoon said, peeking into the room. “The PDs are looking for the unit leaders to discuss something. We’ll be out for a bit.”

The house was bustling with life, cameras were getting installed and members are running around.

“Maybe I’ll take a little tour around the house.” I announced.

“I’ll go with you.” Minghao said and walked beside me. “I choose the attic as the first destination.

“Why the attic?” I asked, a little perplexed.

“Just because.” He grinned.

Minghao and I made our way to the attic, the wooden floors subtly complaining about our combined weight. When we reached the end of the corridor, we looked up and saw the hatch for the attic. I reached for the hatch, pulling a foldable ladder down along with it. The onslaught of dust particles that rained down on us is a telltale that the attic hasn’t been used for a long time. I coughed to clear my airways.

“I’ll go first.” I told Minghao.

“Okay.”

The ladder groaned under my feet, a little wobbly but fine nonetheless. A lone incandescent bulb was hanging low in the middle of the room. I pulled a switch and the light flickered before steadying, illuminating the room with a yellow hue. I looked around, seeing boxes upon boxes piled in random places.

“Yo, Mingyu!” Minghao’s voice chimed. “You alive?”

I chuckled and crouched down by the hatch. “What do you take me for?”

“For granted.” Minghao smirked.

I gasped, feigning hurt. “How could you?”

He laughed. “Just make way because I’m climbing up.”

I harrumphed good-naturedly and did as told. Minghao took a peek and clambered in. “Wow!” He said.

I raised a brow at him. He smiled knowingly.

“Attics are curious places, don’t you think?” he asked.

“Why do you say so?”

“They always give off this creepy yet nostalgic vibe. A dim place filled with memories forgotten and stories left untold, always waiting for someone to uncover its secrets.”

I glanced at him, amused and awed. “Sometimes, I forget you’re a hopeless romantic. Thank you for reminding me from time to time.” I grinned.

The comment earned me a scathing glare. I took a step back, stumbling over a box that I swear to up above was not there a moment ago. I landed on my bum and the box’s contents scattered on the floor.

“Thanks for reminding me of your clumsiness from time to time,” Minghao bit back but helped me up nonetheless.

I rubbed my bum to help soothe the pain and stared at the box’s contents on the floor. My eyes widened when I realized they were old video games paraphernalia. Famous 90’s games and few gaming consoles littered the floor. What caught my eyes, however, was the sole unopened game package, undented and surprisingly in good condition. There was a special limited edition seal on the upper right corner.

“Pinwheel?” Minghao read the embossed words written in gold. “Never heard of that game.”

“Me neither,” I told him. “But it has the same title with one of Jihoon’s songs.”

I flipped the package over but nothing more gave me information about the game. Aside from the golden letters and limited seal, there’s nothing more on the pitch black cover—no company name or even the year of release. It piqued my curiosity.

“I want to know what this game is about,” I said. “Do you think we can play this?”

“We should ask the staff first,” Minghao said as he crouched down to put the stuffs back to the box. “Besides, it’s unlikely for it to function when approximately it is more than a decade old.”

I frowned. Minghao got a point. “You’re right,” I agreed. “But it never hurts to try.”

We tucked the box neatly to the side and we went downstairs, with me carrying the game along. Coincidentally, we bumped into Wonwoo when he was exiting the room.

“Oh, good timing, Wonwoo,” I exclaimed. “We found a game in the attic and we are on our way to ask if we could play it.”

His eyes immediately fell onto the package and lit up. “Limited edition?”

“So it says.” Minghao shrugged.

Wonwoo’s eyes sparkled with too much excitement I ended up handling over Pinwheel.

“This is a cartridge video game,” he mused. “I think.”

“Do you recognize the game?” I asked.

“Nope,” he said without delay. “But I want to play it.”

He was almost bursting with enthusiasm that I started to wonder where the energy came from.

We approached one of the producers and asked. He excused himself for a bit to make a call and came back with a smile.

“She said it is fine,” he said. “You can open it.”

Wonwoo’s smile literally lit up the room. He ran upstairs, taking the game with him, and we tailed behind. He’s so excited he’s almost vibrating. He opened the package with utmost care like how a fan opens an album—so excruciatingly slow it could drive a weak mind insane. I was almost tempted to tear the room down.

When he finally succeeded, he raised the cartridge in the air like some triumphant warrior. His face shone with euphoria I think I heard the angels singing. Then, like a switch, he frowned and asked, “Do we have a cartridge-based video game console?”

“Maybe?” I did a double take on the switch. “On the attic hidden?”

“I don’t think I saw one.” Minghao shook his head.

Wonwoo groaned, and slumped downed on the floor. He was looking longingly at the video game now, wallowing in his new found sorrow.

Hansol entered the room with brows raised. “What’s the fuss?”

“Wonwoo’s about to die because there’s no cartridge-based console in this damnation,” Minghao shared, straightly, as if he didn’t exaggerate.

“I think I’ve seen one.” Hansol said. “Though I’m not sure if it’s the last room or next one in this corridor.”

Wonwoo sprang to life and headed to the end of the corridor. The three of us followed him in curiosity. Wonwoo was opening drawers and cabinets when we got there. Then, he froze.

“Here it is!” He exclaimed and set the console down on the floor.

We crowded in on him and helped him set it up. We watched in anticipation when he loaded the cartridge on the slot. The screen flickered to life with 16-bit graphics and music.

“Oh my gosh,” Minghao muttered breathlessly. “It worked.”

Considering the odds, it is indeed breathtaking for it to work. There are two game controllers and Wonwoo immediately grabbed one.

“Who wants to play with me?” he asked with a grin.

I took the other controller and stared at the screen. The word ‘PINWHEEL’ tauntingly bright on the screen. ‘ _Player 1, please enter your name’_ blinked repeatedly and Wonwoo typed ‘Wonu’ into the blanks and pressed ‘enter’. _‘Player 2, please enter your name’_ showed on the screen and I thought hard what name to enter.

I must have took long because Wonwoo nudged my knee and said, “Just type your name.”

So I did.

*****Wonwoo vs. Mingyu*****

**Please press X to start**

The game was pretty cool for a cartridge one. Actually, the games command doesn’t seem 16-bit. It seemed advanced for its age, it’s like Tekken but with special powers. Did cartridge video games reach this level?

Wonwoo’s power is water while mine seemed to be earth. We were supposed to fight in three rounds but Wonwoo won the first two rounds. Complete victory for Jeon Wonwoo who drowned my character in tons of water.

I sighed and gave my controller to Minghao. He smirked at me as if taunting my defeat. I stuck my tongue out maturely. I looked around and realized that everyone was there waiting for their turn. Except, the unit leaders, of course.

Minghao power seemed to be petrification but he never stood a chance against Jeon-fucking-Wonwoo. He gave his controller to Chan with a grumble.

Chan’s powers seemed to involve threads that snaked around him acting like Medusa’s hair. He surprisingly won the first round by willing the threads into a spear and impaled Wonwoo. Wonwoo sought revenge for the second round by drowning Chan but at the last second, he was decapitated, a gruesome death, and the water drained out from the screen.

Wonwoo stared at the screen in disbelief. “What the hell happened?”

“Invisible thread.” Chan chirped happily as if that explains it.

Hansol took the controller and entered his name. Confusingly, his character doesn’t seem to have special power.

“This is unfair,” Hansol whined as his character took a beating. Needless to say, he lost.

Seungkwan huffed and took the controller. “Watch and learn,” he told Hansol.

He, too, suffered defeat it’s almost comical. Chan laughed at him provokingly. Seungkwan fumed. Ahh, the liveliness of the younger ones.

Seokmin was loud. He screams and shouts at every attack, even if he’s the one attacking. His power seemed to be frost and shockingly, he won the first round. Chan retaliated with vengeance.

At first, it doesn’t make sense. Chan was just jumping around the screen and getting hit by attacks. However, as Seokmin moved from his position, Chan smiled.

“Don’t move if you don’t want to get decapitated,” Chan warned.

Seokmin obeyed but Chan pressed a button nonetheless and Seokmin’s character got chopped to bits.

It’s astounding, really, how a game as old as this be this advanced in a way. It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe this is why it’s a special limited edition.

“Everyone, we’re back!” Seungcheol’s voice resounded throughout the house. “Where’s everyone?”

Then suddenly there’s someone running upstairs and Soonyoung crashed into the room. “Yo! What is everyone doing here?”

Seugcheol and Jihoon came a moment later in a calmer manner. Jihoon visibly stiffened upon hearing the game’s tune. “What are you guys doing?”

“We found a game in the attic,” Chan, who apparently lost against Seokmin, informed. “It’s so cool.”

“Really?” Seungcheol humored fondly. “Did the staff know?”

Chan nodded. “They gave it a go.”

“It’s called Pinwheel,” Wonwoo added, lifting up the package.

Jihoon’s hard stare snapped to him, fist clenched and eyes burning. Wonwoo frowned, confused by the reaction.

“Why the fuck would you touch something that’s not ours?” Jihoon shouted, taking all of us aback.

Motions and noises ceased as we stared at him in shock. Only the Pinwheel tune filled the silence. It was Seungcheol who recovered first.

“Hey, Jihoon, it’s fine.” He assured. “Chan said it’s fine.”

Jihoon’s murderous glare turned to him. “It’s not fine!” he yelled. He rushed over to Wonwoo and took away the package, crumpling and crushing it.

Wonwoo’s eyes widened, horrified and indignant. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” He yelled back as he picked the package and smoothed it out.

We were all too shell-shocked to react. It’s like we’re frozen. Jihoon stormed to the console and snatched away the controllers from Seokmin and Jun.

“Jihoon, stop.” Seungcheol commanded, warning seeping from his voice.

Jihoon didn’t seem to hear as he smashed the controllers to the floor. One cracked open. We stared, horrified.

“JIHOON!” Seungcheol bellowed, all the calm lost.

Jihoon unplugged the console and it died. The music ceased. When Jihoon straightened, Seungcheol was there before him, fuming. Seungcheol raised his hand and a slap reverberated. We all gasped. Seungcheol’s anger faltered. Jihoon froze.

When Jihoon looked up, fear was clearly written on his face. A tear rolled down his cheeks.

Seungcheol blinked, once, twice, before realization sank in. “Oh my god, Jihoon, I am sorry.”

“You don’t understand,” Jihoon said, voice breaking.

As if on cue, the door slammed shut and the light bulb exploded. The room was dark and the Pinwheel tune filled the room. Our eyes all fell on the console which Jihoon unplugged earlier. It flickered to life, glitching for a few moments before it went black. Then the golden words filled the screen.

**_WELCOME TO PINWHEEL, JIHOON._ **

**_WOULD YOU LIKE TO PLAY?_ **

I felt dizzy. Suddenly, my vision turned black and I fell down with a thud.


End file.
